A/N: This chapter is heavy on Arya-Stannis because I need to develop the relationship (err, not in THAT way, obviously, hehe) for future plot reasons. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!
He is not so very different from me. The thought floated into his mind, watching Ned's grave expression and listening to Ned's questions, as Stannis was telling him about the secret. The secret previously only known to Stannis and Jon Arryn.
And to Cersei and Jaime Lannister, of course. And Lord Tywin? Does he know? Or at least suspects?
Somehow Stannis doubted it. Tywin Lannister was nothing if not strategic. Whatever else he might think or feel about the incest, he would want to make sure that his grandsons are Robert's, to ensure succession to the throne, and the continuing power and influence of House Lannister. He would be furious that Cersei and Jaime had endangered that.
But even if he found out the truth, he would pretend in public that it was a lie, Stannis knew. He would insist on it.
Or even pretend to himself that it is a lie. We are all capable of self-deception, myself included.
Ned was asking him another question. "Where is the book now?"
"I don't know. I looked for it in Lord Arryn's study after his death, but it was not there. He must have returned it to Pycelle."
"Did you look at the book yourself?"
"No. There was no time. He fell ill the very next day after he told me that he had found proof in a book. Proof that Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen could not have been sired by Robert. Or by any Baratheon. That was the way he put it."
Ned was taken aback. "By any Baratheon? That is a strange way of putting it."
"I thought so myself. There was no chance of asking him during his illness, he was always surrounded by people. Maesters, Lady Arryn, the servants, Robert."
They were silent after that, both lost in thoughts. Stannis was amazed at how easily Ned seemed to trust his account of events.
I could be lying for the purpose of putting myself next in line for the throne. That would have been Robert's first thought, Stannis was certain. And with Jon Arryn dead, there was no one to confirm Stannis' story.
And yet Ned -
"I will ask Maester Pycelle about the book," Ned finally said.
"Is that wise? He is loyal to the Lannisters, he always has been. He might suspect that you suspect something, and relay that to the queen," Stannis countered.
Ned took a moment to consider. "Maester Pycelle did tell me that Jon's death was natural. That there was nothing suspicious about it. And yet your own maester said that it was caused by poison. So was Pychelle lying, or merely incompetent?"
It was Stannis' turn to reflect. "Maester Cressen is wise and learned, he would not make a mistake in identifying the cause of death and the type of poison. But of course he was not present at Lord Arryn's bedside during the illness himself. He was working from information I provided him regarding the symptoms. If that information is inaccurate, then his answer will be inaccurate as well."
"Then I'm sure Maester Cressen got the best information he could have. You would have made sure of that," Ned smiled as he said this.
Stannis did not acknowledge the praise. Ned Stark trusting him, Ned Stark praising him, all of that made him uneasy.
You should not trust me so easily, Ned. You don't know the kind of thoughts I have had about you.
Arya Stark would have told her father the same thing, Stannis knew.
"Maester Cressen once told me that Pycelle is a very learned and wise maester himself. I find it hard to believe that he would miss the symptoms, and not know that Lord Arryn's death was not natural. Whatever else Pychelle is, he is not incompetent. Or a fool," Stannis said.
Cressen had told him that after Stannis had railed about Robert insisting on retaining Pycelle as the Grand Maester. "He is completely loyal to the Lannisters. He will do their bidding, not Robert's and the throne's."
He was brought back to the present by Ned's voice. "I wonder if you could accompany me to see these … children?"
"Robert's bastards?"
"Yes."
Ahhh, perhaps he does have doubts about my account after all. Very wise, Ned. Never trust what anyone tells you, unless you see it with your own eyes and hear it with your own ears.
"Of course. Let me know when."
"It will have to be after the tourney. I don't think it will be wise for us to be seen in certain establishments when they are filled to capacity with people coming to King's Landing for the tourney."
Stannis nodded. Ned did not seem like he was ready to leave, however.
"Is there anything else you wish to know?" Stannis finally asked.
Ned looked sheepish. "Well, there is, actually. Not related to the matter at hand. I would like your assistance, and your time, in another matter. You can say no, of course. I'm sure you have more pressing matters on your plate."
All the preambles was testing Stannis' patience. Out with it, Ned. He did not remember Ned Stark as a man who would chatter nonsensically.
"What is it?"
"My younger daughter, Arya, she wanted one lesson with you. About the history of House Baratheon."
"Why? Surely the maesters at Winterfell have taught her that."
"She said it's because she's in King's Landing now, and Housee Baratheon is the ruling house. She did learn from Maester Luwin, but as part of all the other major Houses, not in specific details."
Ned hesitated, before continuing. "Under normal circumstance, I would not even forward this request, it is not proper to ask you this. But the girls have been … distraught."
"Because of the direwolves?"
"Yes. And, well, the butcher's boy had been Arya's friend. I suppose I could send her to one of the maesters here, but I have noticed that they have a tendency to … exaggerate and romanticize things, when they are teaching the girls the history of the rebellion, for example. Arya has a lot of imagination. Too much, sometimes. Perhaps you could tell her the history of House Baratheon in a more realistic way, less about the romance and adventure of wars and battles, and more about the cost of it."
"Perhaps my version would be too harsh for a nine-year-old."
Do you really want to entrust your daughter's education to me, Ned, even for one lesson?
"She has to learn the ways of the world eventually. And I'm sure you will know best how to make it suitable for her ears. Your daughter is the same age, I hear."
That is too optimistic of you Ned. You don't know how little I know about my own daughter.
"Besides, Arya seems to have taken a shine to you. She was very insistent."
She has her own reasons. And not the ones you think, Ned.
Yet he was curious. And challenged.
"I will send my squire to let her know of the time and place."
"Thank you." Ned had something else to say. "What do you think Robert will do, when we tell him? That is, if we can prove it."
"He will believe it coming from you."
Ned looked sad. "He doesn't think as badly of you as you might think."
Stony silent from Stannis.
"Forgive me, it is not my concern. I should not intrude."
"No, you should not."
"But that's not what I mean, whether he will believe it or not. It's whether –"
"What?"
"Never mind, it's too early to worry about it now. We should focus on finding the proof first." And with that, Ned finally left Stannis' chamber.
He waited three days before sending Devan to summon Arya Stark to his study. Let's see if this child truly wants to learn, or is using that merely as an excuse. She came to his study with quill and papers, and diligently took notes while he was speaking.
Perhaps she really does want to learn.
He did not leave a space for her to ask any questions, or put forward her own thoughts, until he was done.
"Tell me what you have learned from this session, child."
She began summarizing what he had said, without once glancing at the notes. Her summary was accurate enough, but Stannis was not impressed.
"No, I want to know what you think, not what I told you. Parroting other people's words is easy enough."
"You asked me what I have learned, not what I thought about it," she replied, undeterred.
Fair enough.
"Well, get on with it then. What do you think?"
"I can say anything, and you will not be angry?"
"How can I know before I hear what you have to say?"
"It might make you angry."
"Surely you're not afraid of my anger? The child who accosted me in the middle of the road and started throwing accusations and making threats."
"No, I'm not afraid of you. But you might tell Father, and I don't want him to be angry. Or upset."
"Whatever we talk about in this room today will stay between us. I will not tell your father, or anyone else. You have my word."
"Well, the story about Durran building Storm's End - no, building and rebuilding the castle every time it was destroyed by Elenei's parents, that's like the king, and my aunt Lyanna. The king fought a war for the woman he loved, just like Durran defied the gods for the woman he loved."
He was sorely disappointed. She had chosen the love explanation, over the more important things.
"It is not the same thing at all," he snapped. "The Mad King was cruel and unjust, he murdered countless people including your grandfather and your uncle Brandon. Don't you know the history of your own House, child?"
"Of course I do," she snapped back. "But that was the reason why my father fought the war, for his father and brother and sister. But King Robert, his own family was not killed or captured."
Your father was his chosen brother, your father's family was his family too, in Robert's eyes, Stannis thought, but did not say to Arya.
"Anything else?"
"If Joffrey and Tommen are not here, will Princess Myrcella become queen?"
"What do you mean, not here?"
"Well, if they don't exist, let's say."
"But they do exist, and you should call them Prince Joffrey and Prince Tommen."
"If they are dead, then. Will Princes Myrcella be the queen, and rule over the Seven Kingdoms?"
None of them will. Joffrey, Tommen or Myrcella. They are not the legitimate heirs.
"No, she will not. And I would be careful talking about the two Princes being dead. You were already in trouble for attacking Joffrey before."
"Why wouldn't she? Can't a woman be the ruling queen?"
"The succession passes to all the male relatives first."
"Male relatives, meaning you, my lord, and Lord Renly?"
"Yes."
"But uncle Benjen cannot inherit Winterfell before Sansa and me. Is that because he's in the Night's Watch?"
"No, that's not the reason. Even if he is not a member of the Night's Watch, he will not inherit before your sister and you. Because the law of succession for the throne is different."
"It's not fair," Arya said.
"It's the law," Stannis replied.
"But they only made that law after the Targaryen's civil war. The one called The Dance of the Dragons. Because they were angry at Rhaenyra Targaryen for wanting to be queen. Her father wanted her to rule, and had trained her to rule. But just because some men don't want to be ruled by a woman-"
"So you know all about it after all. Why did you ask the question, then?"
"To see how you would answer it, my lord," she said, without a trace of fear or embarrassment at being caught red-handed.
"It wasn't that simple. Her brother had his supporters too. And her son did end up as king."
"But if the law can be changed so easily, then it is not so sacred after all. And following the law is not a sacred duty." She said this with conviction, more conviction than he would have expected from a mere child of nine.
"The world can't function if everyone thinks that way. There would be chaos everywhere. Deaths and destruction."
"What if the law is unjust?" She asked.
"Unjust in whose eyes?" He replied.
She had no answer to that. He felt ashamed for reveling in beating a child in an argument.
"Family, duty, honor," she suddenly said.
Or maybe not. She was not done challenging him.
"That's the House words for House Tully. Your mother's House. What of it?"
"Family comes first for the Tullys. Duty comes first for you. And honor comes first for father."
"Honor? Not preparing for winter? Preparing for bad times?"
Her laughter was so unexpected, Stannis almost fell off his chair.
"Winter is coming. Is that not the words for House Stark? Why are you laughing? I fail to see what could have amused you so much."
She struggled to stop giggling. "Never mind. You won't understand why it's funny. I asked you about duty before. What do you consider your most important duty, my lord? To the law? Or to the king?"
"Both, of course."
"What if they clash?"
"Then the law reigns supreme."
"But what if your brother … the king … then changes the law to fit what he wants to do?"
Smart girl, he thought. She had obviously predicted what his answers would be to each query, and prepared another question for each answer, in advance.
But why? Why go to all this trouble?
"There is a greater law," he finally said.
"From the gods?"
"No. From the conception of justice. Of what is just and what is not. Everyone will reap what they sow."
"That sounds terrifying," she replied.
"And what about you? Are you more a Tully, or a Stark?"
"What do you mean?"
"Family first, or honor first?"
"I don't know. I need to think about it. I will let you know," she said, smiling.
Another ploy to meet me and interrogate me again? What does she want, this child? Still worrying that I am her father's enemy?
He was about to send her off when she asked another question. "Why is your daughter not here with you?"
"She is with her mother, at Dragonstone." He should not have replied, he thought.
Just tell her to stop asking so many questions, and send her off.
"She must be lonely at Dragonstone, with only Patchface the fool as her companion. Here she can play with Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella. Well, maybe not Joffrey, because he's awful."
He had noticed her talking to his squires. And the servants. This child got around everywhere, it seemed. The septa must not be doing her duties properly, watching over the Stark girls.
"How do you know anything about my daughter? Have my squires been telling you tales?"
She was taken aback by his harsh tone. This is who I am, child. I have been far too lenient and indulgent with you.
"Are you going to ask me which one? Or say you will punish them both if I don't tell you?"
That she should think that he was capable of that kind of injustice, punishing the innocent to find the guilty party, angered him beyond measure.
"I think that should be enough, you can leave now."
"I'm sorry. I know that's not something you would do."
"Then why did you say it?"
"I don't know." She was looking at her feet now.
A child's answer, he thought. I keep forgetting that she is still a child.
"It wasn't your squires. They won't answer my questions about you or your family, my lord. They said it would be breaking the trust."
"So you did ask them. Why?"
"I was curious. I've heard people say that your daughter has greyscale."
"Had. She is not contagious, or sick."
"But she has a scar from it."
"Yes."
"Maybe we could be friends, she and I."
"If you want to have a conversation with an adult, you need to stop acting like a child, changing subjects without notice."
"Because we're both ugly. I mean, not pretty. Not like Sansa. Or Myrcella."
"You've never met my daughter and you feel comfortable calling her ugly?" His anger was rising again. How did Ned Stark and his wife raise this child? Or was she raised by wolves?
"Only, it's what people say. About the greyscale. And the scar." She looked quite miserable now.
"You don't have a scar."
"Yes, but I don't look like Sansa. Or Robb. Or Bran. Or Rickon. They all look like mother."
"Does it matter to you, being pretty?" This was surprising to Stannis, he would not have pegged this girl as someone who cared about such things.
"No! It's just, people are always comparing Sansa and me. They call me horse-face Arya. I shouldn't be saying this to you, my lord. Only, I thought … I thought … you would understand."
"And why would you think that?"
"Well, because you're not like your brothers. They say Lord Renly looks the spitting image of the king when he was that age."
"And I'm ugly too, I suppose?"
"I didn't say that."
"It was implied."
"Only, less good looking and charming than them. The way I am less beautiful and graceful than Sansa. Well, at least I heard the king was good looking and charming once, he's neither now." She chuckled softly.
"Watch it, that's the king you're talking about." He continued, after a pause. "Looks and charm are not as important as you might think."
"But people like your brothers more than they like you. And people like Sansa more than they like me."
"It's not about looks. Not in my case."
"It's because you're not very nice to people, isn't it? You're blunt and you say what you mean."
He stifled the urge to laugh. Somehow coming from this child, that observation did not anger him.
"And what about you? Why do you think people like you less than they like your sister?"
"It's because I like to do things that people disapprove of. Like playing with the servant boys, or learning sword fight. But I like those things. I don't want to stop doing them."
"Then you'll just have to accept that some people will never like you."
Was that the right thing to tell a child? He didn't know. Oh Ned, you will regret sending your daughter to cross my path.
"What does your daughter like?"
I don't know. I spend so little time with her.
He was still swimming in his own shame and regret, when Arya asked another question.
"Are you ashamed of her? Is that why you won't take her to King's Landing with you?"
I have no right to be angry. I deserve that question.
"No," he replied. "She's happier at Dragonstone."
"Or, are you afraid people will make fun of her here?"
"You ask too many questions about things that don't concern you, child."
"When you write to her, will you tell her about me?"
"Why?"
"So she will know who I am. So I can write to her later."
"Why would you write to her?"
"So we can be friends."
"Ravens are not for sending frivolous, silly letters from little girls."
"I am not frivolous, or silly! Or a little girl. Besides, I can just send it with your own letter. How often do you write to her?"
Silence.
"Not very often, then. She must be very lonely, no friends to play with, waiting for the rare letters from her father."
Something finally clicked in Stannis' mind. About this girl. About her imagination, and her love for stories and adventures, as Ned had told him. She had named her direwolf Nymeria; that must be in honor of the warrior queen of the Rhoyne, who led her people across the Narrow Sea to Dorne.
"My daughter is not a princess locked in a tower guarded by dragons who needs rescuing."
Her face got so red, he knew he was on the right track.
"Knights and battles and wars, they're not wonderful adventures. People die horrific deaths," he continued.
"I know that. I don't want to be rescued by a knight, or by anyone."
"No, you want to be the one fighting and rescuing people."
"And you think I can't because I'm a girl."
That was not a conversation he was willing to have with this child. He changed the subject.
"What do you want me to say about you, when I write to my daughter?"
"I'm sure you will say what you want to say anyway, my lord."
"She's very shy, Shireen."
"So she might not reply to my letter?"
"She will, she is taught to be courteous. And she is kind." He continued, after a pause. "Are you satisfied?"
"Satisfied? With the lesson today? Well, I knew most of it from the maesters. But you have a way of telling things that makes everything sound a lot less exciting, and more miserable. So that's different."
This confounding child! "Well, you should learn that history is not like make-up stories. The world is not easy, or kind. It's not all about the songs they sing for the glorious dead."
She looked glum. Have I said too much for a child's ear?
"You should tell Sansa that."
"Your sister? Why?"
"She thinks she's going to marry Joffrey and be queen and have his babies and live happily ever after."
She won't be queen, once we have found the proof, he thought. Did Ned consider that? What about her daughter's betrothal to Joffrey? To a Lannister.
"And you don't think she will?"
"How can she, when Joffrey is an idiot? And cruel. Oh he pretends to be nice in front of her, but I can see how he really is. I don't know why Sansa doesn't see it."
Even if she does, a betrothal is not that easily broken.
"Perhaps she does. People don't always say everything they feel to other people."
"Why not? Why pretend?"
"Perhaps they think other people won't understand, or sympathize."
"You mean me? That I won't understand or sympathize with Sansa?"
He said nothing.
"If you know so much about siblings, why do you and your brothers not get along?"
After everything that was said, this was the last straw, somehow. He looked away from her, busying himself with the parchments on the table.
After the silence had stretched for what seemed like an eternity, she finally said, "Should I leave, my lord?"
"We're done, so, yes," he said, without looking up.
"Thank you." She hesitated. "My father said I should apologize, for saying that King Robert loves my father more than his brothers."
"I don't care what you father wants you to do, that is not my concern."
"I mean, I'm sorry, my lord. I should not have said that."
"Why?"
"Why, what?"
"Why are you sorry? Because your father told you to be sorry?"
"No, because … well, because it was a hurtful thing to say."
"I wasn't hurt by something said by an ignorant little girl. Did you mean it to be hurtful?"
"No, I just, I thought you were father's enemy. I only wanted to warn you."
"Do you still think I'm his enemy?"
"No. But sometimes, people who are not enemies can harm someone too, without meaning to."
Does she know about me letting Ned in on the secret, and how that could endanger him too? How could she know?
"Also, Father said it's not true, about the king loving him more. More than his brothers. More than you."
Stannis nodded and waved her off. "You've apologized. You can tell your father that. You've done your duty."
"You don't believe it, do you? What father said."
"I said you can go."
"And it's not about duty. Apologizing, I mean."
He sighed. Why is she still here? "Well, it can't be family, since we're not related, so it must be honor. But I can't see how."
"It's none of those things."
"I don't need to know. In fact, I don't want to know, it doesn't interest me."
"It's because it made you sad. It made you sad the way I was sad when Sansa would rather play and talk with Jeyne Poole and her friends than with me."
How dare her! Comparing a lifetime of slights with children playing favorites. He was about to explode, when he looked up to see her watching him, with sad, earnest eyes.
Why should she care if I was sad?
"I wasn't sad, only annoyed. Annoyed at the rude little girl talking about things she didn't understand. That's all."
Her expression was poised between believing and not believing. Finally she smiled. "I will give you my answer later."
"Answer?"
"Between family and honor. Or really, between family, duty and comes first for me."
Don't choose duty, he thought. It will only bring you untold misery.